


what's in a name

by strictlybecca



Series: fifteen pieces of nagron [7]
Category: Spartacus: Vengeance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strictlybecca/pseuds/strictlybecca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agron has been not so secretly obsessed with Hot Chai Guy since he started coming to the coffeeshop every week. His plan falls somewhere along the lines of Step 1: Find out his name and Step 2: Have sex with him.</p><p>What can he say, he's not so good with forethought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what's in a name

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this one's late folks, I couldn't decide what I wanted to do with this one - so I just ended up doing all of it! I didn't mean for this one to be so long, but oh well.
> 
> From a tumblr prompt from my beloved moreglitter, who asked for a coffeeshop AU. We have some seriously excellent ones in this fandom already, but it is my opinion that you can NEVER have enough coffeeshop AUs.

“This is wrong,” came a sharp voice from somewhere to Agron’s left. He was steadily pouring steaming milk into a cup so he didn’t look up for a moment, but when he did, he wished he hadn’t.

It was Pretentious Coffee Guy.

God, Agron hated Pretentious Coffee Guy with the passion of a thousand burning suns. Every other day, Pretentious Coffee Guy came in, ordered something stupid and gross and complex and Agron made it for him – flawlessly, he might add – and _every single time_ Pretentious Coffee Guy brought it back to the bar and demanded a new one because it “didn’t taste right.” Agron did actually know his real name considering he called it out every other day when he made his coffee, but he chose instead to insult him mentally every time he was forced to think about him. It didn’t make him feel much better, but it helped a tiny bit.

“You added too much milk,” Pretentious Coffee Guy added, narrowing his eyes. “I can tell.”

“I didn’t,” Agron gritted out, focusing his attention again on the nice, boring vanilla latte he was making – because anything was better than attempting to talk to this asshole.

“I need a new one,” Pretentious Coffee Guy insisted. “You made it wrong.”

Agron tried to ignore the steadily rising urge to lunge across the bar and strangle the life out of the man, but it was getting more and more difficult. Instead, he slammed the vanilla latte down and called out, “Vanilla latte, extra foam, Chadara,” and turned back to grab the next cup on the line.

“Are you ignoring me?” Pretentious Coffee Guy asked, eyes narrowed. “I think I need to talk to your manager again,” he said, and it was all Agron could do not to actually commit murder, because not only would calling Glaber in here make Agron angry enough to set the entire building on fire, but Hot Chai Guy just happened to appear at Pretentious Coffee Guy’s elbow.

Hot Chai Guy was the hottest person Agron had ever seen in his entire life. Therefore, the Hot in his nickname was not a reference to how he liked his chai, but how much Agron wanted to fall to his knees whenever he saw him and worship the ground this guy walked on – also, his ass. _Damn_ , he had a nice ass. Hot Chai Guy was the reason Agron put up with this crappy ass job – the money was okay, but nothing special. But Hot Chai Guy’s arms were a thing to behold.

And unlike Pretentious Coffee Guy, Agron had no idea what Hot Chai Guy’s real name was – because every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday afternoon when Hot Chai Guy came in and set up his laptop and books at the corner booth, he gave a different name to whoever was working the register.

There were themes – one week it was members of the Partridge family, one week it was main characters from 90s television cartoons. Agron had fun the week it was solely Harry Potter names – that was the first week he dared actually strike up a conversation with Hot Chai Guy, hoping that he’d at least get a real name out of it. At the end of their quick back and forth, Agron was no closer to a name, but he had the hard-on of a century to deal with as Hot Chai Guy laughed and bit his lip and smiled softly and basically did all the things that Agron had been obsessing about for weeks already – except this time, it was _up close_.

Thanks to the epic crush Agron was nursing on Hot Chai Guy, he definitely didn’t want him around while Pretentious Coffee Guy talked down to him like he was a moron, and he especially didn’t want him around if Glaber showed up and tore Agron a new one for being rude to customers (again.) 

“Your attitude is terrible,” Pretentious Coffee Guy was saying, looking angrier by the second. “How hard is it to get a coffee right?”

“Calm down dude,” Hot Chai Guy said, raising an eyebrow, expression bewildered. “It’s just coffee. And you’re hardly the most reliable source on taste here,” he added, his lips quirking slightly.

“And what do you mean by that?” Pretentious Coffee Guy said, turning his fierce glare on Hot Chai Guy, something for which Agron would just not stand – but before he could say anything in defense of his fantasy boyfriend, Hot Chai Guy snorted.

“C’mon, you’re like the pretentious asshole who cried wolf around here. Everyone knows you always drink half your drink and then ask for a new one because you’re too cheap to buy another.” Agron blinked. Is that something that everyone knew? Because he might have missed the memo on that one.

“Well, I- you can’t just, you have no proof – it’s incompetence, it’s not- I-” Pretentious Coffee Guy stuttered through his protest, but by the expression on everyone else’s face in the café, he had pretty much become the Most Hated Customer. Agron was pretty sure what he was feeling now could be termed _joy_. 

“Just leave the poor man alone,” Hot Chai Guy continued, not letting up, “He makes everyone’s drinks just fine, I doubt he fucks up on yours – not that I’d blame him if he did - not when your reaction is to try and get him fired like the dick you are.”

There was a hum of approval from the other customers in the café, and Agron straightened his shoulders slightly, glancing from Hot Chai Guy to Pretentious Coffee Guy, unsure of whether cackling gleefully was the proper response to one’s crush defending them and one’s arch nemesis getting a verbal smackdown. Hot Chai Guy shot him a look that made Agron fight the urge to start taking his clothes off right then and there; instead, he just beamed back at him, his cheeks dimpling.

“Is there a problem here?” Glaber’s tone was hardly more than a murmur, silky and dangerous. Agron froze, smile rapidly sliding off his face, before he realized that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Well, he was about ten seconds from hauling Hot Chai Guy over the drink bar and making out with him then and there, but nothing _illegal_. Like murder.

“No sir,” Agron muttered, back stiff as a board, his skin crawling. Ugh, he hated this asshole so much. Not only was Glaber a near abusive boss, he also kept tips most nights and refused most requests for holidays. “Everything’s fine, right?” he looked pointedly at Pretentious Coffee Guy, who was looking between Hot Chai Guy and his coffee with something like embarrassment.

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging a shoulder, eyes downcast. “It’s fine.”

“Good,” Glaber said, his tone suddenly warm and helpful. “I’m glad everything’s worked out. Keep the line moving Agron, we don’t want to keep-” Glaber froze, staring at Hot Chai Guy with a look in his eye that Agron _really_ did not like. “Tiberius,” he said, his tone still fake and welcoming. “Fancy seeing you around here. How have you been since… well, since I saw you last, I suppose.”

“Glaber,” Tiberius (Tiberius? Agron frowned a little. _That_ was Hot Chai Guy’s name?) said, smirking slightly. “You mean since our break up? I’m doing just fine.” _Fuck_. Agron wanted to go stick his head in an oven – _his_ Hot Chai Guy had gone out with the worst human in all of history? Agron felt dirty and betrayed and – oh fuck, who was he kidding? Hot Chai Guy was still fucking perfect. “You seem to be in exactly the same place, though.” He eyed Glaber’s name badge with more than a little disdain. “Still assistant manager, huh?”

Glaber’s fake smile turned brittle and icy. “Serve the man his drink, Agron,” he snapped. “I have a conference call with Headquarters in a few minutes. Don’t disturb me for the rest of the afternoon.” He spun sharply on his heel and walked back into his office, Agron snapping off a lazy salute after him.

“Aye aye, asshole,” he muttered, turning back to Tiberius, who was giving him an unreadable look. 

“So, uh, you shouldn’t have had to witness that,” he said, scratching his neck sheepishly. “The whole ex thing." 

“Whatever, it’s not my business,” Agron muttered, turning his focus to the pot of steamed milk he was heating. He ignored the fact that Glaber having dated Hot Chai Guy made Agron just want to murder him _more_ , but this time, with added torture for touching what Agron had been thinking of as _his_ for the past few weeks. Stupid, he knew, but he never said he was all that smart.

“But if I wanted it to be-?” Tiberius said, his tone hopeful and awkward all at once. He was leaning in a little over the bar, a few pieces of dark hair sliding out of his neat braid. Agron was distracted for a moment by one of the strands falling into his eyes, but he blinked and refocused in on Tiberius. “If I told you that the only reason I come to the coffeeshop where my ex is the manager is because there’s this really hot guy who works Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays-" 

“And Sundays,” Agron added, absentmindedly, staring in wonder at Tiberius.

“And Sundays,” Tiberius amended, “But I can’t come Sundays because I visit my Grandmother then, but all those other days, I come then because I want to watch him make drinks and make him guess at my name and drink the best chai in the entire city – what if I told you that?”

Agron was tearing off his apron and hopping neatly over the drink bar before he could convince himself he was dreaming. “I only work here to see you,” he growled, hauling Tiberius close and kissing him fiercely. Tiberius pressed up against him, his height providing some difficulty until he broke away and hopped up onto the low counter before dragging Agron’s head down again and licking dirtily into his mouth, forcing a deep groan out of Agron as he pressed even closer.

“Tiberius,” Agron murmured against his lips, fingers sliding into smooth, soft hair, massaging gently. Tiberius immediately broke away from the kiss, lips bruised and eyes slightly glazed. 

“No, I – uh, Tiberius is a stupid nickname, Glaber and his friends, they – well, it’s not important,” he said, biting his lip and prompting Agron to interrupt him and press a kiss to the abused spot. Not-Tiberius laughed a little and pressed a kiss to the corner of Agron’s mouth in return. “My name’s Nasir.”

“Nasir,” Agron murmured, liking this name way better than any of the others, liking it because it was his to use and say, something of Nasir’s that Agron could keep. “Nice to meet you,” he said, capturing Nasir’s lips with his again – before remembering something important and breaking away. “Gimme two seconds and we can continue this somewhere less –” he glanced around at the crowd of blatantly staring customers, “-sketchy.” Nasir laughed and nodded, unwinding his legs from around Agron’s hips and watching with undisguised interest as Agron hopped back over the bar, scooped up his apron and headed for the back office. 

“Peace out Glaber, I quit,” Agron called as he stuck his head past the door, “Find someone else to be a dick to.” With that, he closed the door behind him and slid back over the bar to settle beside Nasir. “Wanna go makeout in my car?” he asked, grinning.

“Hell yes, I do,” Nasir said, grinning in return. “C’mon,” he said, hopping off the counter and tugging at Agron’s hand. “And after that, I’ll bring you to my friend’s coffeeshop and put in a good word for you there.” He winked over his shoulder at Agron. “No one else makes my chai as good as you do.”

Agron lengthened his stride to catch up to Nasir, pressing up against his back as they pushed through the door of the cafe, leaning down to murmur in his ear, "Well, if you sleep over tonight I can make it for you in the morning." He grinned against the warm skin of Nasir's neck as he felt him shiver in his arms.

"I like that plan," Nasir replied, tilting his head back and grinning. "I think we'll get along just fine." 

When hours later Agron had a sated and naked Nasir in his arms and in his bed, sipping contentedly at a mug of hot chai, he knew that there was no way they were going to be just fine. He grinned down at Nasir, who beamed back at him.

They were going to be fucking _awesome_.


End file.
